


Research and Development

by Dream_Wreaver



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I'm not sure what you'd call this, Mostly Fluff, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: It's an odd day when a nerdy historian literally knocks her off her feet. But Lila's always been able to make any situation work to her advantage





	Research and Development

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at another new ship. But a good friend absolutely loves this, and I love them, so here we are.

It had all started with a simple trip to the Louvre. They said that knowledge was power, and that to beat thine enemy, you had to know them. The best way to do that? Ideally, it would be to spy until Lila found out the superheroine’s identity and then used it as blackmail. But, since she couldn’t leap around Paris anymore, she would have to settle for the next best thing. Research.

One might think that such a popular superhero would have tons of articles, interviews, something, anything that might provide a clue. Super she might be, but Ladybug was still human under that magic mask. She was sure of it. But, any public appearance was carefully cultivated so as not to give hints to who she was in real life. The few details that were available were all vague enough that they could apply to anyone in the city. There were too many variables. The internet was still catching up on this figure. Blurry photos and shaky video were about it from any source. And there was little to no digital scholarship done on the superheroine. But such awesome power couldn’t have come from nowhere. The archived video of Lady Wifi’s attempt on Ladybug’s identity had the superheroine revealing the mask wouldn’t come off because it was magic. Magic, not technology.

Magic came from the old worlds. Egypt, Sumeria, Arabia, places like that. So she needed to extend the timeline of her search in order to figure this sort of thing out. The best place to learn about the past? The museum. It was as she was studying an old Egyptian papyrus she ran into him. Rather, he ran into her, knocking her to the ground in the process.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologized, even though he was more concerned with picking up his documents than helping her to her feet. Lila frowned at the man, but then caught sight of his work. He was a historian. Historian meant nerd, and nerds loved nothing more than research, right?

Immediately she began sniffling, thinking of the worst things imaginable to make the crocodile tears come out. She gingerly reached for her ankle and then winced exaggeratedly, hissing in pain through her fake tears.

The man stopped with his documents, setting the ones he had gathered aside in a neat pile. He pushed his glasses up on his nose as he hurriedly got closer. The genuine concern on his face would have been rather endearing if it didn’t prove how gullible he was, “Are you alright miss?”

“I,” Lila sniffed again, “My ankle, I think it’s twisted,” she began to sob again, furtively peeking through her fingers to see how he might react. There were few bystanders in this part of the museum, but there were enough that she hoped she could get their attention if he wouldn’t comply.

“I,” he began to stammer, “Should I call for first aid, I don’t-”

“Please,” she looked up at him, green eyes tearful and beckoning, “Can you, just move me to a bench, and an icepack, please.”

“Oh, right,” he quickly agreed, looking around, “Um…” he seemed at a loss. And it almost made her want to break the ruse because of how frustrating she easily saw this becoming. Rather than immediately help her, he continued to gather the rest of his scattered papers and tuck them altogether.

“Here,” he said as he shoved them at her, “Hold these for me a moment.”

Unsure of how to proceed she ended up doing as he told her. And while she held the papers he situated his arms under her and heaved. Lila half expected that he be so weak that she tumbled back to the floor in a way she would have laughed at had it happened to anyone other than herself. But no, he carried her like a princess without any difficulty at all. Who knew the nerd had some other redeeming qualities?

He brought her to a small infirmary the museum housed and elevated her ankle on a pillow before searching for an ice pack to place on it. Lila studied him carefully now. He was certainly much stronger than he appeared to be. But it wasn’t the clearly defined muscles of someone who worked out professionally. No, it had to be the lean definition of someone who gained muscle through more natural, and unintentional means. Like lifting heavy boxes often. He was tall, taller than her. Which made sense, he had to be older than her by at least a couple of years. At youngest he was maybe sixteen, no, seventeen. He wasn’t handsome, at least, not model handsome like Adrien was. But he wasn’t hideous either. And since he seemed rather self-focused he had a perfect one track mind. Which meant he was easy to mold.

He returned to her side and silently put the wrapped compress against her ankle. Lila hissed at the cold, even through the scant layers of paper towel he had put to cushion the blow. But it was alright, she could play it off as pain from her joint. She silently handed him back his papers.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she replied demurely, a charming if not bashful smile at her lips. Lila had always wanted to be an actress growing up, if nothing else this was perfect practice. “You did bring me all the way here.”

“I was the one who knocked you over,” he replied, “This is the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you anyways,” Lila replied, “Mister, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Jalil,” he replied, “Jalil Kubdel.”

Lila wondered if he was related to Alix, “Lila,” she replied, “Lila Rossi.”

“So,” Jalil asked, “What brings you to the Louvre?”

“I was doing some research,” Lila sighed helplessly, “But I think I’m just not that good at it.”

“Pft,” Jalil scoffed, “Anyone can research properly, you just need to be taught the right way. What is it you were looking into?”

“Ladybug,” Lila admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. Part of it was because it galled her to admit that, but she had no other way of convincing him to help her, “I made a mistake, assuming I knew her from the few times we’ve encountered one another. I wanted to know more… but I just don’t know where to start.”

“Would you be surprised to find that there’s actually a good deal of information on Ladybug?” Jalil asked.

“What?” Lila raised a brow, “I thought she was a recent superhero.”

“She is, rather, this iteration of her is,” Jalil pushed his glasses up on his nose, “It was a point of interest for myself after the whole…” here he paused as if embarrassed, “‘Pharaoh’ incident. As it turns out there are depictions of Ladybug and Chat Noir spanning centuries, possibly even millennia if we had more records.”

“Really?” Lila curled her lips, a smile both charming and devilish, “You don’t say. Please,” she placed a hand on his arm, “ _ do _ tell me more.”

MLB

When she had said, “Tell me more,” she hadn’t meant for him to go on a two hour lecture within the Louvre’s infirmary about the various depictions of Ladybug and Chat Noir throughout history, encompassing several notable figures from Hercules and Hippolyta to Jeanne D’Arc and some Aztecs whose names she couldn’t even pronounce. But he could, with ease. Apparently there was even an ancient Egyptian Ladybug, her name unfortunately being lost to time.

Jalil appeared more enthralled with this Ladybug, egyptology -she was informed through a suppressed eye roll- was his field of specialization. She supposed that it  _ was _ interesting to find out that Ladybug had appeared in France once before. But there was no other pattern to the appearances. They were sporadic, spanning years, decades, generations, even empires at times. And while all the mystery left Jalil with plenty to ponder and speculate, the history of Ladybug wasn’t something that enthused her.

“Is there anything else you’ve managed to find out?” she pressed. Anyone who had been akumatized knew that Ladybug’s earrings and Chat Noir’s ring were the source of their power. How exactly that worked though, no one had a clue. And the problem with being akumatized was that it was almost like being in a trance. The memories were hazy and dreamlike at best, and completely gone at worst. Most victims woke from the ordeal not having any idea what occured. The most they could concur was the voice of the enigmatic butterfly villain in their heads had told them what they needed to bring him in order to have their revenge. Aside from that… 

Even Lila had only one memory of her time as Volpina. That of being on the Eiffel Tower, using one of her illusions against Ladybug. Whatever it was, it had been working, she could remember seeing Ladybug reaching for her earrings in order to save… someone. Who had it been? It didn’t matter anyways, Chat Noir had tossed out his baton and dispelled it.

“Unfortunately yes,” Jalil responded, “The interviews the duo give are very vague. Any personal or probing questions are met with deflections or flat out rejections. Which makes sense, you wouldn’t want your enemy to know your weakness, but it’s incredibly frustrating to historians and journalists alike.”

“There isn’t anything?” Lila pressed, “Not even their favorite color?”

“Nothing at all,” Jalil replied, “The one journalist who tried got akumatized and soundly beaten.”

Ah yes, she remembered that incident. She had seethed over watching Ladybug win again, though it was worth it, seeing her try to explain herself to her partner. It was obvious to anyone who watched that Chat Noir had a massive crush for the spotted heroine. It was nothing new, so did half the population of Paris at this point. What was important was that she actively rebuffed him, always with a smile and gentility, but a rebuff was a rebuff all the same. And the kiss, the fact that it had happened, the fact that she had never spoken to him about it, it had been delicious to watch. Even if it  _ was _ perhaps too much to hope for that this would tear them apart. No, they’d set it aside for the sake of the greater good and taken care of business.

Lila sighed, audibly frustrated, “Well,” she kept the charm to her voice as though there was nothing more interesting she could be doing than listen to him talk, “If you happen to find out anything else, would you let me know?” she batted her eyes at him, “It’s so interesting, and you’re a wonderful instructor.”

The compliment seemed to catch him off guard, coloring his cheeks. Lila’s smile turned to one of genuine amusement as she watched this. With it came a small tingle of pleasure at the power she wielded so easily over him. That had to be what it was, and it had to be all it was. Of that, there could be no doubt.

MLB

The days at school came one after the other. For Lila, it was tedium at its finest. Partly because, since her exposure and the akumatization and everything, she’d been given a wide berth by everyone. Since she’d lied about being a superhero, everyone began to doubt that the other things she’d said were true. Especially when Chloe Bourgeois said that she’d personally asked Jagged Stone -who stayed at her daddy’s hotel didn’t you know- about the song he’d allegedly written about her. Chloe said his response had been to ask who Lila Rossi even was. It would have been bad enough to be confronted with that information, but Chloe Bourgeois, from all accounts, had a sadistic streak a mile wide. And she had chosen to reveal this information in the school’s courtyard. It had been another near akumitization for her that day, especially when Lila realized that phones were out and filming every instance of this altercation. All she wanted at that moment was the power to prove to everyone that her lies were in fact the truth. But then, by some small mercy, she’d been granted a savior.

She was petite, a tiny thing really, of mixed race. With pigtails in her hair so like the ones Lila wanted to rip out of Ladybug’s head, she was the hero who had come to the Italian girl’s rescue though, telling Chloe to back off. When others in the audience began to voice approval of Chloe’s actions the girl, Marinette Dupain-Cheng the blonde had sneered, had whirled on the crowd and asked if they should really be casting stones when they themselves lived in glass houses. Had they never lied before in their lives? She demanded them to answer. Had they never lied in order to make themselves seem more appealing to someone?

The group shifted uncomfortably and quickly dispersed after that. Chloe had sneered and sniffed before spinning on her heel and stalking off. Lila, much like that pathetic sniveling she had done in front of that accursed advertisement of Ladybug the day Volpina had been born, was sitting helplessly on the ground. Marinette had reached out a hand to help her up. At first, Lila had refused, as the sun casting its glare overhead had made her silhouette look too similar to the one she so despised. But then she leaned closer, an easy and reassuring smile on her face. Marinette was open, she was friendly, she was ready and willing to overlook what all the others were nailing her to the cross for. And Lila nearly fell for it. She reached out her hand, ready to meet the other girl. But then, Lila saw the look in Marinette’s eyes. It was not one of condescension, of someone who had done the right thing despite their own feelings on the matter, nor was it the smugness of someone who had done the right thing to assuage themselves of their own worth. Lila might have taken her hand if she had seen either of these things. No, what she saw in Marinette’s eyes was neither of those. Instead, there was nothing but pity. And if there was one thing Lila Rossi hated more than humiliation, it was pity.

In perhaps a move more self-destructive than those lies she had told, she’d slapped the hand away and gotten to her feet by herself. And she saw those glares of condemnation return. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was apparently Francoise Dupont’s golden girl. Popular and well-liked, and all of it genuine and completely deserved. People didn’t take kindly to people who didn’t like Marinette. They apparently regarded it as some sort of character defect. Oh well, surely her father would be here for a few months longer. And if not, well, her mother had stayed behind in Italy, maybe Lila could rejoin her, re-enroll in her school there. Everyone back home liked her, and her lies were practically nonexistent, more embellishments of truths that had actually happened. Lila had run off after that, and had felt so poorly it had been a miracle she hadn’t been akumatized. Although, as she later found out, Hawkmoth had simply found a victim just a tad sooner than he’d found her.

“Hey,” someone broke her out of her well of self-pity by calling out to her. Lila stopped her slow slinking to class to look over her shoulder. Of all people, it was Alix, it just had to be Alix. The one who let her disdain be known at every turn.

Lila sighed in defeat, Alix was an athlete, there’s no way she’d be able to outrun the small girl, “What?” she asked, hands tightening around the strap of her bag.

“My brother wanted me to ask you how your ankle was doing,” her expression revealed that it was something she had been put up to, rather than something that she did out of kindness for for her brother, or for Lila.

“As you can see,” she said, sticking out the leg and twisting it about, still in its customary heeled boot, “It’s just fine. And you can tell him I thank him for asking.”

She made to stalk off but Alix stopped her, “And what, may I ask, happened that would make my brother be concerned about  _ you _ ?”

“I was at the Louvre the other day, he ran into me, I twisted my ankle in the fall, he brought me to the infirmary and iced it. End of story,” Lila replied curtly.

Alix crossed her arms and raised a brow, “Mhm,” she scoffed, “A likely story.”

“It’s what happened, whether you want to believe it or not,” Lila nearly hissed, “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to my locker and get through the rest of the day  _ without _ being harassed thank you very much.”

“You know what you did,” Alix defended, “Maybe if you hadn’t, things would be different.”

“And maybe if you’d been more careful with your precious watch,” Lila sneered back, “You wouldn’t have done horrible things either.” she didn’t wait for the pink-haired girl to respond, choosing instead to walk away.

MLB

The nice thing about social media was that with just two names and a photo, you could find just about anyone. She contacted Jalil without consulting his sister. They messaged on and off about the topic of the historical Ladybugs and Chat Noirs. It was something to drive the boredom that loneliness and isolation brings at least. Sometimes, more increasingly as time went on, their conversations drifted from their original focus and turned to normal ones. Well, as normal as it could be having a nerd historian for a conversation partner. At least her history homework became a lot easier.

“Alix claims you’ve been using me for homework help,” she had read one evening while sprawled on her bed, book open and pen twirling between her fingers. She snorted and set the instrument down to reply, “She’s not wrong, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”

A few minutes later his response came,  _ ‘Well, at least I know  _ **_someone’s_ ** _ getting use out of my wealth of information’ _

It had made her snort. He had this wonderfully dry sense of self-deprecating humor. A nerd who not only knew he was a nerd, but was proud of it and secure enough in his own identity to take shots at himself for the sake of a joke. Lila wasn’t sure if she’d ever reach that level of self-assurance with her personality to do the same.

And yet, there was still Alix to contend with. The younger (but still technically older than Lila) girl was very protective of her brother. And she had on more than one occasion cornered Lila trying to get her to back off.

“What your brother does is really none of your concern,” Lila retorted as she tossed her hair, “As for my association with him, it’s purely platonic. We just happen to both have interest in a certain historical subject.”

And yet, as more and more time passed, they talked less and less about it. Did she still hold resentment towards Ladybug? Yes, but it was less on the side of burning hatred and more on the side of just not liking someone. You didn’t get along with everyone you met and that was allowed. Not that Lila could speak about it to anyone, they’d never understand. They’d condemn her for telling a lie. Although, if there was one small boon, it was that in all interviews about Volpina Ladybug herself had squarely taken the blame. Of course, everyone only loved her all the more for it. But, even Lila could appreciate the fact that Ladybug hadn’t made herself the victim in all this, even though she very well could have.

And yet, when she’d told Jalil about it all, he… waited. He heard her side of the story out fully. And while he said he didn’t approve of her actions, it wasn’t something he would hold against her either. Everyone made mistakes, especially when they just wanted to be liked. Besides, he reasoned, her lies would have been exposed at some point with or without Ladybug, it had been an inevitability. Lila had questioned him on whether or not he thought her reasons for talking to him were less than above-board. He had shrugged and said, maybe they were, at one point. But he didn’t believe they were now. They were friends, were they not?

It had floored Lila, just how easily he was willing to hold her to the person she was now, rather than the person she had been. It made her feel slightly guilty for lying to him in the first place, but she resolved that so long as she never did it for anything important again, it would all be okay. A friend, Lila had a friend.

And the moment she had one friend, the easier it was to make friends with others. She had finally apologized to Marinette for that day. Marinette had simply smiled and said she understood. They had moved on without incident and become close, well, close enough. It was hard to be close when Alya firmly took up the spot of best friend and was always watching her like a hawk. Reporters apparently didn’t take kindly to being lied to. Good to know for next time. And yet, the more friends she began to have, the more she noticed how different her relationships to her other friends were than the one she shared with her first one. She didn’t know what it all meant.

MLB

This continued for years, until Lila was well into University and Jalil had all but taken over his father’s position at the Louvre. She hung out in his office, distracting him as he tried to work. She had grown, and so had he. Lila was a tall girl by nature, unhelped by the fact that she as of yet hadn’t lost her love of heels. But Jalil was plenty tall enough to make her feel small and delicate on the rare occasions she wanted to feel that way. He had also become less of a stringent determinist when it came to his work. Maybe actual professional experience had taught him that the whims of the last vestiges of childhood couldn’t be borne as an adult. There were prices to pay, and consequences to every action.

He’d inspired her, as well. Never had Lila really given any thought to what she wanted to do with her life. But his passion for history had sparked her own curiosity as well. She wanted to be an archivist and preservationist, working to bring treasures of the past back to life. Lila thought it was going well. And yet, as their friendship spanned the years, there had come this weird tension. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, exactly, but it was there and omnipresent all the same.

At least, she couldn’t until one night, when he’d been working late and she’d brought over dinner and some wine to make sure he’d eat. She’d already been drinking herself before the thought occurred, and the buzz had left her feeling a little more insistent than usual.

“Come on!” she whined playfully, sitting atop his desk and swirling her liquor around in her glass, “You need to eat.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done,” Jalil had answered, double checking something from a file on his desk and whatever he was typing on the screen.

“You’ve been saying that all night,” Lila drunkenly complained, “You’ll be as dry and shriveled up as one of those mummies of yours if you keep at it like this.”

“At least the museum would have a new attraction,” he quipped dryly, not even looking at her as his fingers flew across the keyboard; once again only pausing to cross reference with whatever was on the desk.

Lila pouted, which he ignored. Then she drained her glass, set it on one of the shelving units that cluttered the office, and flopped over on top of the desk, effectively trapping all the papers beneath her and rendering them unreadable.

Jalil merely stopped his typing to give her a sardonic look, “Really?” he asked as he raised a brow at her.

She prodded him, “Eat,”

“No,” he replied, “I need to finish this. It’s important.”

“So is eating,” Lila rebutted. Then she rolled over on her back, shimmying her shoulders and making herself as obnoxiously comfortable as she could on top of the ancient and not at all comfortable piece of furniture. His slightly beleaguered look was adorable, her half-hazy mind decided as she decided to stare at him. The furrow in his brow made him look so cute. She giggled drunkenly.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured softly, shaking his head slightly as he did so.

The sudden question left her at a loss. So she answered honestly, “Things I probably shouldn’t be thinking about.”

Always a scholar, such an enigmatic answer only piqued his curiosity further, “Such as?” he pressed.

Lila blinked, slowly, only raising her lids to half-mast when she opened them again. She took a deep breath and replied, “How much I want to kiss you right now.”

Jalil sat there, shock evident on her face. And suddenly, Lila had the sinking realization she had just messed up, majorly. They were friends, good friends, best friends. But that was it. Nothing more. Neither had ever given any indication of wanting to turn their relationship in a new direction, on the contrary they constantly had to fend off the teasing remarks and questions of when they would just announce they were dating already. But there had never been any question as to the humorous, if not annoying, nature of those quips. Until now. Immediately Lila sat up. But before she could begin apologizing and blaming the wine she found herself pressed back down to the desktop with a firm but gentle hand. And then, the warmest sensation against her lips. His lips, she realized as she opened her eyes for a brief moment before sinking back into the embrace.

When they parted it was with heaving chests and swollen lips. When at last even one of them regained their ability to speak, Jalil remarked, “Well,  _ that _ was an interesting development.”

Lila laughed hesitantly, heart still fluttering and soul still yearning for more, “One that requires a bit more research?” came her earnest, if not suggestive, question.

“One should never come to a conclusion without exploring all possible angles,” Jalil replied, before pulling her forward to sit on his lap. And despite his claims of urgency, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done until two days later.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought and thanks for reading. Until next time everyone


End file.
